#honestly only one of these was a negative experience for me and it wasn't eating part of a table

[artemissoteira]

some people were disappointed I didn't include any food crimes in my hyper specific poll so here's a whole poll of things I have genuinely done to food, all but one of them on purpose, most of them as an adult, and several of them more than once.

bonus: tell me your worst food crime* in the tags!

*food "crimes" here are about defying convention and/or wisdom in the name of curiosity, whimsy, stupidity, or being out of milk. this is a lighthearted way to celebrate our mistakes, adventures, and resulting abominations, not make moral judgments about food!

[darling-wendy]

they made each other fathers

This has been staring us right in the face the entire time, but it's only just registering to me that Kazuki defaulted to "Rei-papa" when he could've easily just said "Rei-niichan" or "Rei-ojisan" or "Rei-san", some other form of honorific. A four year old is aware of the concept of an uncle, he could've gone with that to begin with. It's very interesting that Kazuki instinctively reached for the one honorific that tacitly implies a relationship between him and Rei. Like, somewhere in the back of his mind he said 'Well, if I'm her pretend dad then Rei, as my partner (and it's also interesting that the first time we first see him use the term, it's the ambiguous English loan word rather than either of the two Japanese equivalents), is obviously also her pretend dad'.

And, honestly, Kazuki doing this seems to kinda low-key incept Miri into viewing Rei as her second papa lol.

She was told by her mother that she had a Papa, singular, and that she was going to meet him at the Varint Hotel. Kazuki presented himself as such, and in the specific context of rescuing her, which is something that Misaki seems to have have told her is what a Papa does.

(The expression on her face and her hand gesture and the way she says this sounds like she's repeating something a trusted adult told her rather than something she came up with herself imo)

So, case closed. But then! her papa tells her to go play with this other guy, who is apparently also her papa? He says he isn't, but the seed has been planted, and it sprouts up later.

Kazuki is berating Rei for not just telling the neighbourhood watch guy that he was her dad, and Miri takes notice. Rei once again denies being her dad, but the idea seems to have stuck for her.

Look at her hurt little face after she heard Rei outright deny being not just her father but also some other sort of family member. She's attached to Rei. She wanted to eat breakfast with him and later wants to sleep next to him. And I'm sure at least some of that is having had him introduced to her as another parent. Fortunately, it works out in the end.

(The voice Kazuki uses here kills me softly. There is genuinely no heterosexual explanation for it lmao.)

('All according to keikaku')

Don't look so smug, Kazuki. Aside from taking Miri into your shared home in the first place, you put the idea of 'Rei-papa' into her head.

So, within Rei's overall arc of changing to become a suitable parent, there's this first mini arc of him accepting identifying as her papa, and it's partially instigated by Kazuki. On Kazuki's end, he doesn't struggle with the label (despite and/or because of his past? Kazuki, you are fascinating), but he has his own unique arc around it.

Part of the reason that Kazuki is so fascinating to me is that he's very straightforward but also he masks as readily as he breathes. Rei isn't as demonstrative or expressive, but he doesn't really hide what he's thinking or how he's feeling. Rei's arc with becoming a father is pretty linear; he first denies then accepts being Miri's papa, he gets a bit involved with raising her, he learns the lesson of how he's not doing enough and needs to step up, then he gets more involved and becomes more confident, culminating in him declaring his desire to be her father in an outright permanent way and he continues growing after the main timeline wraps. His failings are mostly due to having no idea of what a parent is supposed to be like. His father wasn't his father, he was his boss. (Imagine being ~11 years old and having your father hit you in the face and tell you that he's your boss, not your father. This is immediately after he forced you to try to kill a rabid dog, arming you with nothing but a knife, and berating you for not finishing it off. Woof).

Kazuki's failings seem to come from him being too prescriptive or blindly using negative personal experiences as an anchor for what not to do. He also had a terrible childhood, but we lack specific details. He seems to have been abandoned when he was young, so young that he doesn't even remember his parents, and so lacked a real example of how a parent should behave. This undoubtedly would've come up as a stressor when Yuzuko was pregnant. I imagine that he would've gone through the beginner level stages of growth that we saw with Rei, if not exactly in the same way. We come to him at an intermediate level where he knows a lot of basics, but gets tripped up by more higher level concepts.

(Pre-school socialisation isn't about establishing dominance and young kids can have an understanding of right and wrong, Kazuki)

Over the course of the series (and especially in eps 7 and 9), we see Rei look to Kazuki for guidance, and there are also times when Kazuki asserts himself (often erroneously lol) as having the right idea of what to do in a particular situation.

Kazuki's papa arc is more about breaking down the ideas he had built in his head about what good parenting is supposed to look like and holistically feeling it out with respect to what Miri specifically--not some amorphous Child--needs. Rei kind of has the opposite problem, operating purely on vibes rather than structure lol, and that's why they balance each other so well.

Now for the reverse. By the midpoint of ep 3, Miri has been calling Kazuki 'Papa' for days now. It's just hitting me that he didn't try to gently let her down and reveal his lie after they got out of the gunfight. [Rei straight up asked her 'What about your real father?' and got a philosophical answer, so maybe that strategy wouldn't work anyway lol]. I guess he might think of it as easier to just lean into being 'Papa' until they got rid of her, but I'm gonna call it an inverse Freudian slip. Especially since it ties into the first moment I wanna highlight.

Rei is emotionally stunted but also very perceptive. He's read something in Kazuki's actions, tone of voice, body language, etc that indicates that Kazuki doesn't actually want to give Miri up. She's been a little torpedo that imploded two jobs back to back, she gets underfoot, she and makes lots of noise, she and breaks things...and yet. He knows Kazuki well and he saw, perhaps, what Kyu saw when Kazuki was having a moan about them in ep 7.

The rest of the episode plays out and ends with Rei, Miri, and Kazuki going home together for dinner, this time as a quasi family unit. They haven't made any declarations yet, they're just kind of feeling and fumbling their way along. They have some ups and downs as they settle into a dynamic. Then it all blows up in ep 10.

[I could write a whole screed about how ep 10 was a necessary--at least a highly valuable--story beat, but this post is already very long. Some other time, perhaps. ]

Misaki comes back for Miri thanks to Kyu, they are successfully convinced to give her up, and then their little unit falls apart. Another explosion comes in ep 11 with Misaki's death, and now Miri is officially orphaned. Rei, as per usual, asks Kazuki what they should do, and Kazuki reveals that he's in a deep, guilt-induced trough.

We see how Misaki's death is weighing heavily on his mind, and he's surely thinking that he got yet another woman killed due to his desire for a family. He processes her 'protect Miri' plea as needing to stay away from Miri--that that's what he has to do to prevent her from becoming the second child he has to bury. But Rei surprises him.

Kazuki's response is a bit cruel, though not entirely unfounded. He had to temporarily ghost Rei for him to realise all the work that goes into looking after Miri. And even though Kazuki left a fridge full of meals, Rei still ended up ordering pizza because he couldn't recognise them as such. He has a long way to go as a parent. But he wants to do it, and he beseeches Kazuki to make the jump with him.

Kazuki's talking back to himself just as much as he is to Rei. "It might not be too late. [for] Normal happiness" is what he said to Rei on the Ferris wheel. At that time he genuinely thought there was nothing else for them to do but give Miri back to Misaki. But that was when he, like the rest of them, thought that simply stepping back would be enough for Shigeki to be satisfied. It's different now. They both know that, but Kazuki is too raw with hurt and guilty to let himself be happy. It's that characteristic manner in which he gets in his own way. But Rei breaks through all that.

This is the moment. Rei, for the first time as far as I can recall, is shown to initiate physical contact with Kazuki in a way that's soft and not utilitarian. While he talks, he even gives Kazuki's hand a little squeeze. He is going way further than he ever has in expressing his emotions. Change has been a motif for both of them, and Rei says it's possible for them with such conviction--that they can make Miri happy--that Kazuki stops getting in his own way. He comes around in the most Kazuki way possible: transitioning their serious conversation about taking responsibility for Miri (and the implications of dealing with the organisation) into a comedic moment about Rei doing his share of the household chores and childcare.

And with that, they're over the finish line! There's still a lot for them to do in the final episode, but this is the climax of their respective papa arcs. Storming the Suwa compound, confronting Shigeki, and the 10 years later bit are denouement. The two of them approached fatherhood from completely different backgrounds and stances and levels of experience, but it was a journey they took together and one which was not possible without the other.

[topshelf2112-blog]

Fellow enjoyers of suggestive desserts, I decided to translate this part of the episode “Distant Voices.” The actors are at fault for this, bless them. Translations are in bold.

BASHIR: Can I interest you in some more Yigrish cream pie?

May I entice you into eating a suggestive dessert as a prelude to other suggestive things?


GARAK: No, thank you, Doctor. I'm quite full.

You’re a touch obvious, you know that? As well as obscene. We are in public.

BASHIR: But you've hardly touched your food.

I pay very close attention to you, but only in totally appropriate ways.

GARAK: The truth is, I'm trying to lose a little weight. Hemming women's dresses may provide me with a modest income, but it offers very little in the way of exercise.

Tell me I’m pretty. Also thin.

BASHIR: Well if you like, I can help you set up an exercise programme in one of the holosuites here.

I am using exercise as a euphemism, here, darling. Hint hint.

GARAK: I might just take you up on that. And speaking of holosuites 
(Garak takes out an isolinear rod with a ribbon around it and hands it to Bashir.) 
GARAK: Happy birthday. I know it's a few days off, but I wanted to give you your present early. It's a Cardassian holosuite programme. An adaptation of one of Shoggoth's enigma tales.

Still in public, silly creature. No, you never told me your birthdate, but you think the spy thing is hot so I figured it out. Also, I refuse to share you with this entire station, so I’m celebrating you today. Speaking of getting up to things in the holosuite…

BASHIR: Is it? I see.

I told you I wanted you to design yourself some lingerie. You’re such a prude.

GARAK: You sound disappointed. I thought you enjoyed mystery novels.

Praise me for my thoughtfulness.

BASHIR: I do. Human mystery novels. The problem with Cardassian enigma tales is that they all end the same way. All the suspects are always guilty.

Lingerie, Garak. You won’t wear it in the holosuite so quit trying to distract me.

GARAK: Yes, but the challenge is determining exactly who is guilty of what. Is Lieutenant Dax throwing one of her surprise parties for you this year?

Jealousy.

BASHIR: Oh, so I'm told.

Come to the party and make out with me, you twit.

GARAK: You don't sound enthusiastic about that either.

Not happening.

BASHIR: It's not that I don't appreciate all the trouble she goes to and everything. It's just that this year is a little different.

Fine. If we aren’t going to discuss lingerie, existential angst it is.

GARAK: How so?

I can win much more easily at this.

BASHIR: This will be my thirtieth birthday.

Isn’t it obvious?

GARAK: And?

I’m older than you. Do be careful, hmm?

BASHIR: Well, in many human cultures, the thirtieth birthday is considered a sort of landmark. It marks the end of youth and the beginning of the slow march into middle age.

Plays: “Will you still love me when I’m no longer young and beautiful?”

GARAK: And that's considered bad?

Augmented does not mean that you exist outside of time, Julian. Honestly.

BASHIR: No. It's just that when you hit thirty, it becomes harder and harder to ignore the passage of time.

Tell me I’m pretty.

GARAK: I wasn't aware that humans saw growing old as a negative experience. On Cardassia, advanced age is seen as a sign of power and dignity.

Hint, hint. I’m hardly advanced, but you’ve secured yourself quite the catch, my dear.

BASHIR: Well I am aware that aging is part of the natural process of life. It's just that I don't want to be reminded of it, that's all. Look, Garak, in two days I turn thirty. If I choose to be grumpy about it, that's my prerogative

(Oblivious) Yes, I am a doctor but I would like to overlook all that biology rubbish.

GARAK: By all means, Doctor, be as grumpy as you like.

I’m feeling a touch cross myself, given that you are missing what’s right in front of you. This is what one gets for dating another species…

BASHIR: Thank you for the support.

What are you cranky about? I’m the one who is fast becoming ancient and undesirable.

QUARK: I hope you'll forgive the interruption.

Fierce and dangerous boyfriend of the idiot, I apologize for butting in.

GARAK: Of course.

At least someone sees my amazing qualities.

QUARK: You know, we just introduced a new lunch menu at the bar.

Can I sell you something? Anything? You’re looking much too thin!

BASHIR: Goodbye, Quark.

GARAK: Don’t take it personally. He’s turning thirty.

Apologies for my young, stupid boyfriend. He gets by on his looks, you know.

[chirpsythismorning]

Hi!

I want to ask a question which is eating me since july:

What is the narratively propose of the line "I feel like my life started the day we found you in the woods" ?

Because I am losing my mind on this one. The worst is I don't think it won't came back in s5, not like the painting.

But this sentence makes the all "asking to be my friend is the best thing i did" business a lie! From Will's prospective.

How much Will's lie will affect Mike in s5 is widely discussed, but what will be the consequences of Mike's monologue for Will ?

(Ironically, I don't think Will knew he was lying, he genuinely thought that El loved Mike that much. he genuinely thought that El loved Mike as much as he do)

So what do you think?

Bye <3

I never really thought about it that way, but now that you say it, ouch.

I would definitely say from Will's perspective, Mike's monologue to El contradicted his monologue to him in the shed in s2, and so therefore Mike asking him to be his best friend wasn't the best thing he did...?

Yeah that's definitely going to be circled back to in some capacity.

Honestly, I think s5 is going to be very tragic. So many casual fans expect Will to have this horrible ending based on this trend they've had for Will's character thus far. I think to subvert this expectation a majority of the audience has, the Duffer's are going to go all out... They're going to humor those fans expectations a little bit, meaning they are going to make Will (and all of the characters quite frankly) experience so much pain, that it'll have even the most confident bylers questioning everyones happy ending. And that's what's going to make the ending so gratifying. You can't know joy unless you've known sorrow. Those of us who can soar to the highest heights can also plunge to the deepest depths. Don't mind this very relevant Anne with an E quote because the Duffers are anners.

This season upon season trend of the story sidelining Will, something even most casual viewers picked up on and critique as a bad thing... is literally setting Will up for a perfect ending. Because how would season upon season of a character losing again and again, be satisfying if it ended with him losing, again? Answer: it wouldn't be.

Will's dealt with the shit end of things for years, with s4 reaching new heights of making him feel like he deserves it.

All of this is going to come to a head in s5 with Vecna trying to get Will to join him. We already know that he wants to kill everyone else, except Will... and so, Will clearly isn't a target for him to literally kill or hurt technically, and yet Vecna will do what he has to in order to get Will to feel like he has no choice but to join him.

And I think this quote is going to play a part in Will's experiences over the last 3+ seasons finally being confronted head on in the story.

I also don't think Mike said that, knowing what it implied, otherwise he wouldn't have said it at all. Though I think both Will and El and maybe even Jonathan knew what it implied, and I'm sure it pissed them off a little bit. Like I know El was thinking Mike not only are you a bad boyfriend but your bad friend too because jesus!

This quote could honestly come to bite Mike's ass as well, because seeing Will at his lowest thinking no one cares, is going to make Mike feel responsible, because he's going to realize he played a role in part of Will having those negative feelings about himself in the first place. Actually thinking about what he said and how it made Will feel, and also rethinking other interactions between them, all while potentially finding out about Will's feelings/sexuality, that is going to destroy Mike honestly. Because this whole time they could have been together if he'd just not done those things.

Yes, Mike has made the effort to reconcile with Will in both s3-4 after their fights, but they've never truly confronted the problem. And that's all for a reason.

Because once they do confront the truth, it's going to be hard for them to not want to be together knowing they both feel the same.

But the reality is most stories don't operate like that because it's not satisfying, especially slow-burn romances.

When it comes to slow-burns, it's all about the miscommunication and the will they wont they and the balance of both parties feeling something while thinking the other couldn't feel the same.

But I think right now the story is sort of imbalanced in terms of clueing the audience in on Mike's feelings for Will, in comparison to clueing the audience in on Will's feelings for Mike.

And with s5 going back to s1-2 vibes, it's entirely likely s1-2 vibes Mike is making a return, so there is a good chance they're following through with how a slow-burn ship has to operate, meaning they are evening up the balance of those feelings to make their endgame feel worthy and satisfying.

I do think that quote from Mike's monologue will impact both of them in some capacity, because it also, like you said, questions the validity of Mike's monologue to Will in the shed. And so it needs to be confronted in a way that gives both Will and Mike closure.

And let's not forget about El. She was there the day she met Mike and Lucas and Dustin and she knows it wasn't love at first sight. I think she herself has had a similar understanding of their meeting as Mike does, where it wasn't fate, that they just got lucky basically and it worked out for them. And yet she had strong feelings for him that grew over time. And so him saying that even probably upset her a little bit, because she knew it wasn't true even from her take on things. And so why would it be true for Mike who has been incapable of saying i love you to her face, ever?

This rose-tinted lens on their relationship from the beginning by the people around them, society and most of all the audience, is what put them in this position in the first place. They need to acknowledge the truth with one another (without Will mediating) so that they can actually move on and grow and be friends in the way they truly want to be.

Season 5 is definitely going to be a wild ride from start to finish, and even if it feels hopeless in the beginning, it'll all be worth it. Trust!

[xxlovelynovaxx]

Did you know that shitting on people with restrictive and similar eating disorders by saying "it's fatphobic that you personally struggle with a health condition that makes you terrified of being fat, even if you don't view it as a bad thing for anyone else and are in all other ways an ally to fat people" isn't activism?

The word does start with a and end in ism, though.

It's ableism.

Feelings don't have moral weight. Feelings cannot be bigotry. And feelings that are the result of an illness - a phobia, OCD, an eating disorder - DOUBLY SO.

It's not sex negativity, whorephobia, being a puritan, or anything else, to think you personally are a horrible person if you have any other sex than married procreative missionary sex if you don't apply that to other people. That's likely religiously-motivated moral OCD.

It's not ableism to experience uncontrollable terror over a visible disability of some kind, that's a phobia - and I'm pretty sure the person with the phobia would ALSO rather not feel that way and feels TERRIBLE if they make the visibly disabled person feel bad at ALL.

And it's not fatphobia to have PANIC ATTACKS over the idea of gaining a single pound or not being completely skeletal, especially not when you readily admit that this is a standard that only applies to you!

I am fat. I have struggled with disordered eating - severe restricting, purging, calorie counting, and more. I have struggled with those WHILE FAT.

I am speaking FROM EXPERIENCE when I say someone's eating disorder ISN'T ABOUT YOU.

If they MAKE it about all fat people and START being fatphobic, call them the fuck out THEN. But fuck right off with the ableism of "your severe mental health condition causing you intense distress over the idea of being fat harms ME, actually".

This includes people suffering from eating disorders talking about it in recovery spaces, actually. Yes, even if you're also fat and recovering from an eating disorder. There are ways to facilitate these discussions safely, and if conflicting access needs come up, a qualified moderator should already be there to help with that.

And quite honestly, it may in fact BE another fat person struggling with their fears and feelings around being fat that NEEDS nonjudgmental guidance to SURVIVE their eating disorder and learn to be okay and happy with being fat, as much as YOU might need a space where there's never negativity about fatness to survive.

This applies to other mental health conditions than the ones mentioned. My severe depression told me I was a horrible person and worthless because of things like a lack of intelligence, as one example. Never once did I think that ANYONE who wasn't intelligent was a bad person, because mental illness ISN'T LOGICAL. It only applied to ME.

My younger brother who has severe ADHD and learning disabilities I always thought of and looked up to as a perfect angel because it wasn't really about the intelligence, it was about denying me the traits I personally wanted to have and using that as "proof" that I was worse than useless and should die.

But especially because I see so much ableism towards people with eating disorders. Y'all keep acting like it's a choice, that people just DECIDE to feel that way about fatness and their bodies. Not only is it not fatphobia, but since they can be CAUSED by fatphobia, people with eating disorders are VICTIMS of it. Don't make them victims of yet more ableism too.

[can-of-pringles]

It's morning and now I'm finally able to talk about the ritual last night! I tried taking some pictures and videos but they're not the best quality because my phone is so old :'( anyway I'll mostly talk in bullet points for the whole thing. The videos will be posted separately. (And maybe pictures if I can't fit them here)

My first ritual and concert was amazing and I totally would want to go again! Seriously words can't describe the experience lol

I saw a lot of cosplayers so that was cool

The weather and heat wasn't too bad once the sun went down and my dad and I got good seats in the shade

I was nervous about having to go through the metal detector because I have an insulin pump but they were understanding and I got scanned by a wand instead.

After we got in we immediately went to the merch and got tour tshirts and I got my Plushia! Here's a picture of him after the concert

I love Plushia so much and I held him up for the concert a bit at first

There were people with kandi (which my dad was surprised about but I was like see I told you lol) and I did a bit of trading! I don't have pictures of the bracelets rn but I got a red bead one that says Copia, a yellow one that says Banana Boy (which I'm unsure of the reference unless it's about.. Aether(?) Eating a banana in that one picture?) And then I got another red one that says Hail Satan lol. So thanks to those people! I hoped you liked mine, they were first attempts ha.

Our seats were good and I sat on the aisle which gave me a good view. The only thing that was annoying is the person sitting in front of us was vaping almost the whole time...

I'm very glad I brought my ear protection... cause it was very needed!

Amon Amarth was great and I even had fun doing the rowing part lol. It was cool to see them fight the inflatable dragon/sea monster and also to see the two Vikings fighting with swords and shields

Once Ghost started playing it was absolutely incredible and I was so excited. Seriously I can't believe I saw Papa in real life!

All the songs were great live. The only thing was maybe the bass slightly overpowered some of the songs? But that could be where I was seated. My body was vibrating so much from the sound!

Here's my pictures

I used to be slightly annoyed by how popular MoaC has gotten but it's absolutely amazing live so I guess you could say my opinion has changed

They played Rats closer to the beginning than I thought they would

Square Hammer and Dance Macabre were so good live! I was definitely dancing the whole time despite my feet absolutely hurting :') (and I wore regular tennis shoes! There were people there wearing heels and platforms 💀 their feet must've hurt..)

I'm honestly really happy that I got to see Copia before anything happens...

He was talking about the heat and then was joking about having an ice cube down his pants and who wants to be the ice cube (which of course the audience all screamed lol)

He also mentioned wanting to go to Franklin's (which is a popular barbecue restaurant here in Austin)

The Ghouls and Ghoulettes were amazing too! Though I still have trouble telling them apart.. I've pretty much memorized all the names but it's matching the name to the Ghoul that's difficult for me

I didn't think they'd play Mummy Dust because I wasn't sure about the confetti situation but they did! And afterwards someone gave me some Mummy Dust! (Picture taken after the concert)

Something I'm a little disappointed about that I did was I checked my bloodsugar after the show and I basically missed their bowing and stuff. (I had to look down at my meter so I didn't really get a good look) I wish I would've waited a bit but that's entirely on me.

Ok now.. time for some slight negative thoughts. This isn't directed at the band though, I'm blaming the venue. But the show honestly felt rushed. There wasn't much time in between songs, the Ghouls cut the holding the note bit short, Copia didn't interact with the crowd as much, he didn't ask us to bark like dogs which I was a little disappointed about lol. He didn't do the usual marijuana bit and just did Mary on a Cross which was odd. And near the end he even said 'we usually do this long spiel about you going home and then encores but we need to use all of our time so we're just going to cut to the point' (not word for word obviously) so I guess the venue was really rushing them.... which sucked. Amon Amarth didn't feel rushed (though I'm not very familiar with them so idk) but anyway negative thoughts aside it still was a good concert!

I'll be posting some videos soon after this post goes up.

[lesbrarians]

Nona the Ninth: A Spoiler-Free Review

Disclaimer: I'm a librarian who received an Uncorrected Advance Reader Copy of Nona the Ninth. Thank you to TOR for providing me with this ARC.This review is my own and is not influenced in any way by the privilege of receiving this ARC. I swore on the Tomb not speak its secrets, and as promised, this review will contain no spoilers.

---

The only negative thing I have to say about my experience of reading this book was simply that I could not sit down and read it all in one sitting. Unfortunately, I needed to do such stupid human things as go to work, eat, and sleep. Which was most unfortunate, because Nona was the most engrossing book I've read in a long time, and I would've rather read it than do, you know, any of those things.

I've been waffling about where Nona ranks in my personal ranking of the Locked Tomb books. Because like, I didn't think it was possible to like a book more than GtN, but tbfh? NtN is a strong contender to replace it.

This is not to say that NtN is similar in tone to GtN, though! One of the things I admire most about this series is how uniquely different each of the Locked Tomb books has been in terms of its narrative voice. And look, I'll be the first to say that I struggled when I read HtN at first. My brain had a really difficult time getting over the mental roadblock with the switch to second-person tense. Of course, the emotional payoff was worth it in the end! But it was a challenge for me to get into at first.

I didn't have that kind of mental roadblock with NtN. Nona immediately sucked me in. Her narrative voice is so different than the narrative voices found in Gideon or Harrow, and it is truly such a delight to read. It wasn't as meme-y as the first one or even the second one. I think I only caught like two legit memes? The humor was still on-point (when I tell you that there was one moment towards the end where I went from quiet blubbering to actual hooting with laughter, the emotional whiplash killed me and I loved every second of it), but it took the side seat next to the worldbuilding. God, the lore encased in NtN... I need a reread to really digest it all.

And Nona herself? Being inside her head is just... it's charming. Nona as a character absolutely charmed me. The little cover blurb of "You will love Nona, and Nona loves you"? Accurate in every respect. I would die for Nona. I was so sad to finish the novel and honestly wanted to flip back to the start to go on Nona's whole journey all over again. (Because goddamn, what a journey it was.)

Also, every other character in this, not just Nona, was amazing. I loved reading about every character on the Dramatis Personae, especially the "you three." Well, except for the dogs listed. There sadly wasn't enough of the dogs. Asides from Noodle. There was a satisfactory amount of Noodle, whomst I adored.

Let's talk (not really, because No Spoilers) about twists. I went into Nona with a starting theory, and as I read, my theories changed as we learned new pieces of information. There were a few twists where I picked up on the breadcrumbs that Tamsyn was laying and called it before it actually happened, which I must say is tremendously satisfying. And then there were a few twists that absolutely sucker-punched me right in the gut because I was not expecting them at all. And then I had one theory that I was convinced was gonna be true and... I mean, it wasn't confirmed. I suppose it wasn't also denied, though? I'll sit on it.

And now that I've finished writing this review... there's some research I need to do. A few things I've written down that I must look up. A few comparisons to make between my notes and the text.

And so much thinking I must do.

And after I do all that.... then I need to decide: do I immediately reread Nona, or do I go back and reread Harrow and Gideon first? Decisions, decisions.

---

TL;DR Absolutely incredible. Thought-provoking, insane, amazing. As with Gideon and Harrow before them, I am so, so excited for the world at large to read Nona. It is worth the wait.

[imagine-loki]

Soul-mates

TITLE: Soul-mates CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: one-shot AUTHOR: colifower ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s spotify wrapped. Wait, what’s that? They added a musical soulmate in this year’s edition? RATING: PG NOTES/WARNINGS: my AO3 version has Tess' spotify wrapped up and some basic mechanics behind the selection of the Soul-mates. I honestly couldn't bother to copy them here so... bon apple titty, as the youths say

"Huh," said Loki, sprawled over Thor's sofa. "Have you seen this?" Thor peeked over his shoulder and shrugged. "With the ammount of times you've rickrolled me this year it's no wonder it's on your top five. 420 views? Seriously?"

The younger snickered. "I actually rickrolled you 413 times, but I HAD to play it up to 420. I was talking about the music soul-mate feature." "Oh, yeah! They added the feature this year." "Here it says it's somebody with the username Space_Stoned_420" "With that username they need to be somewhat like you." "I'm intrigued. I think I'm gonna find them." "What?" "Aren't you intrigued? Who is your music soul-mate? Show me!"

Thor took his phone out of his pocket and smashed it against the closest wall. Being the heir of a galactic empire meant that he neither had a concept of money nor was he going to start any time soon.

"I only listen to Bears and Beards," said Thor. "So it makes sense that it's Fandral and Hogun's podcast account." "I thought they stopped uploading after the first wave of negative coments." Thor shook his head. "They are my friends," he said full of pride. "But I would do anyways, the bear tips are just incredible." "What do you want them for? Do you have a boyfriend or something?" "They're not for that kind of bear. Most of the times, at least." "Do you have a bear, Thor?" "I like to support local queer artists." "You have not answered my question." "What question?" "Do you have a bear, Thor?" "Hm...?" said the eldest, walking slowly towards the door. "Thor." "...what?" Loki sighted. Thor kept avoiding the question. He stepped once again towards the exit. "Thor..." groaned the god of mischief. "Not this again." "Ok, I can explain..." Please do." "...They are an endangered species, so I brought two with me home because here on Asgard polar bears don't have any natural predators and..." "TWO POLAR BEARS?!" "It is part of a rescue program. Besides, mom and dad won't even notice..." "Thor! They hunt people! To eat them! Asgard is not prepared for another one of your experiments in invasive species." "Yes, well, I..." Thor sprinted out of the room and down the corridor, Loki followed suit, knife in hand. Later on, Loki sat on his bed, feet up on the wall, staring at his email inbox. He furrowed his eyebrow. It was spotify alerting him that Spaced_Stoned_420 followed him back on the music platform." That was the problem, wasn't it? No chat option in the music app. Loki sighted. At least he could give them a follow back. Perhaps even snoop on their playlist, surely their 'music soulmate' would have good taste. Loki was greeted with a collaborative playlist called 'follow this n00bmaster69', you bitch. He smiled.

The charm worked wonders on those midgardian mercenaries known as S.H.I.E.L.D. Loki was able to slide right under their noses and into the secured vault. He opened the case, as their instructions told him to. There layed...

"A cube?" "The sexiest cube in existance ;)" Loki blushed. The sound of the... being? reverbereated loudly in his head. "So... Space Stoned 420?" "You're missing a fiew _, but yes. That's me," continued the cube. "I go by Tess these days. It comes from Tesseract." "Oh, em... Loki. I mean... I'm n00bmaster69. I think we're spotify soulmates." "Oh yeah! I forgot about that," said the stone. "My brother has been recently involved with an AI. And by involved I mean intrinsically connected: they share a body." "I know the kind," said the magician, thinking of his brother's 'hammered dates' where the alcohol and the palm fruits were nowhere to be found.

"Yeah... he's been trying to set me up with increasingly more complicated algorithms. My tinder match called me a bluff for posting 'unrealistic body images'. It's not my fault I'm a powerful and mysterious cube." "That sucks, bestie." Tess sighted. "It's difficult out here. More if you look like I do." "I like it" said Loki. "Unexpected. Uncommon." "Thank you. It means a lot, it really does." "So... are you up to a date? I've heard that they sell boba tea here in Algeria. Globalization and all that." "What doesn 'tea' mean?" Loki wrinkled his nose. "It's... um... a drink. I think you'll like it." said the somewhat of a man, picking up the stone. He found Tess warm to the touch, and found himself fond of it." "Hell yeah >:P"

[casspurrjoybell-22]

The Art of Sin - Chapter 21 - Part 1

•Lycus Tupou (Phooka)

•Blu Nekozuka (Neko)

*Warning Adult Content*

The cold rubber of the floor was, surprisingly, my only comfort as my chest heaved, the oxygen never seemed enough.

I felt like I was suffocating.

Like my lungs were being squeezed, torn and burned all at the same time.

The high ceiling only seemed to grow farther, my eyes never adjusting enough to actually tell the difference. 

The room was actually pretty impressive, though I suppose it'd be more accurate to say rooms.

The one that we were in was huge but there were other rooms for specific training for both magic and non-magic needs.

It was all thanks to the grey door of everything good and wonderful.

I wish they'd have a list of rooms on the wall outside, though.

I feel like there's a lot I'm missing out on.

I half wished I was missing out on this activity.

It's been three minutes since I fell to the ground exhausted and panting like a dog, five hours since we've started this training straight from hell, two weeks days since I naively asked to be trained and one month and four days since Oberous attacked.

Things were starting to get to normal, even better than normal actually.

The negativity between everyone and Nikoli was practically nonexistent.

We were all getting along, having fun.

Hell, I was even getting closer and closer to getting into Nikoli's pants.

It was still a struggle though. 

I was pretty sure everyone was avoiding anything 'indecent' since Oberous.

I guess they thought I was traumatized which, I guess, given all the horrible experiences I've had with sex over the years, what happened with Oberous wasn't anywhere near my top ten bad times.

I was doing it for the people I loved, I didn't regret it in the least.

They thought I was fragile, which was cute but I was fine.

Now I was in the type of situation where I needed to push Nikoli down, ravish him until he can hold back and let him mount me or something like that.

Honestly speaking, part of the reason I asked Nikoli to help me learn my new abilities was to get close to him but it was also because well, I've run into too many things to count, have teleported into some awkward situations,and a ton of other things I need to get under control.

It was a constant reminder that I wasn't the same, that I couldn't actually forget Oberous like everyone wanted me to do.

The attack seemed so far away but weirdly enough like it just happened.

I think I was still partially in shock, even given how calm I seemed.

Though it currently felt like I was dying.

I was vaguely aware of the others in the room.

They were all watching as I gasped like a fish out of water.

Not for the first time.

They were also laughing.

Also not for the first time.

Not that I minded, I would too.

Don't get me wrong, it bugged me at first what with my wanting to get my abilities under control as fast as possible after my own attempts failed but now I was used to it.

It's all part of the routine: 'wake up, shower, get dressed, eat a very light breakfast, come down to die, finish dying, shower, lunch, help around the house, dinner, go to sleep, repeat'. 

"If you do not wish to continue then no one will force you."

I glanced at Nikoli's easy-going smile, a common appearance lately.

He said all the tension has left since the threat was dealt with and everyone was free to be a family again, which I partially believe but I also think he's just happy to have an excuse to touch me.

Though I've made it quite clear how much I want him, he likes to keep me waiting.

Which is exactly why getting into his pants has been a surprising struggle. 

That 'oh it'd be wrong to touch you' is an act.

He's got a perverted mind.

I'd know since I've accidentally peeked in there which never ceased to annoy him.

He never had to guard his thoughts so carefully before.

I didn't really mean to at first.

I just can't help that I sometimes catch the scenes that play in his head.

"Sneak attack," I whispered before launching myself at him, a feat I might add, in my current situation.

Though he's shocked, he easily catches my fist, wrapping his hand around my wrist before using his whole body to keep me still as easy as if I was a child.

I was engulfed in a nice heat then, the blood rushing to more than just my face.

"You know, you shouldn't yell 'sneak attack' if you really want to do one," he chuckled, the vibrations from his chest running through me. I pouted, nuzzling against his neck.

The shivers running through his body along with the tightening of his arms made me smirk.

"I didn't yell..."

"You might as well have yelled, it would have been the same with my hearing."

I squirmed a bit, stilling as I pressed against something hard.

A wicked grin spread on my face as Nikolai pulled away, clearing his throat.

"Well, I think that's enough for today." 

[kaieraai]

Tw - Depression

Our bodies remember the traumas our minds struggle to process.

I made a job change this past fall as my one on one aide position was really negatively impacting my mental health. I often felt like I was being asked to stand by while treatment I disagreed with took place. There was so much negativity, and I was asked to take direction from a person who found fault in everyone and everything. Someone so unhappy that their unhappiness was contagious and seeped into everyone. I don't intend to dwell on all the ways I felt hurt and attacked during my time there, but my very soul felt exhausted by the time I left.

I believe I have always struggled with depression, but this past season that lead me to leave my job was one of the harshest. I found very little joy in what I was doing. I felt anxious whenever I tried to participate in recreational activities I liked, like there was some more important work to be done I was neglecting that I would suffer for later. I always felt so extremely tired. I couldn't seem to picture myself in mirrors anymore, like the me I was just didn't seem right but I couldn't place why or figure out how to fix it. My only ambitions were to smoke weed and clean my house until the fatigue or my elevated heart rate made me want to stop. I'd sleep, wake up, work, smoke, and sleep again. I was barely eating. One of my medications inhibited my hunger, and the only way I could stomach dinner without nausea was being high. I felt like all of me was losing contrast, losing color, losing hold on what I was, who I was, what I was supposed to be. It felt hopeless and dull and exhausting and like no one listened when I did have the energy to speak for myself.

So I changed jobs. And we moved. And I pursued these goals with a feeling of dull uncertainty. I tried to adjust my habits and routines, to commit to healthy choices. To start small, and build good habits, but even my routines felt like an endless trudge of nothingness. Nothing I did felt like it really mattered, like it was worth doing. Decision paralysis was constant. All I ever said was "I don't know. I don't care. It doesn't matter. Don't worry about it."

And I talk about this like it's long in the past, but honestly this has been going on for a while, and only now do I feel like my head came back above water. I'm gasping and spluttering and trying to figure out what's next. How long can I tread water before I'm pulled under again? What made me wake up and how do I keep it? My contrast is turning up with the sun, but this wasn't my usual winter depression.

I cannot stress enough how much I want to live a life that is meaningful. I want to live a life full of joy, full of good experiences, full of love. I want to encourage others to do the same. I want to love myself, I want to be kind to my body so it lasts a long time, so it can have as many experiences as I can muster in this short blip of existence.

I want to keep growing. I want to come back from this time of desolation and feel more whole, more me, higher contrast. More vibrant. I want to feel more.

I hold on to these moments of clarity with love and gratitude. I seek happiness and peace. I seek a life I may rest in, I'm so tired of fighting.

My body remembers what I suffered through. I feel it in my chronic pain. I feel it in my stomach. I have a lot left to unpack.

[zaychik08]

(Autobiography)

Greetings! My name is Cirilo G. Lagrosa and I'm currently a senior high school student, particularly a Humanities and Social Sciences student, studying at Gen. Pantaleon Garcia Senior High School. I'm 19 years old, born on May 8, 2004. I'm currently living with my family in Imus, Cavite. We moved a few times due to financial problems and I even remember having a friend with the same nickname as mine way back in Navotas.

Even though my memory was quite blurry, I can still remember how happy I was back then as a 5 years old kid living in Navotas. I had some friends that I could play with and a best friend. I can say that we had a very simple life back then. Having a small house didn't negatively affect us but served as a motivation to work hard for a better life.

Five years later, I was already 10 years old when we finally moved here in Imus, Cavite. I was filled with anticipation for this new and unfamiliar environment. This time, that is 2010, is when I finally started attending school as a kindergarten student. In contrary to my current self, I was really happy attending school every single time. Listening to lectures, reading, and coloring materials is what made my days as a 10-year-old kid. As embarrassing as it sounds, I didn't know basic geography that I asked my mother on the way home, as was mentioned by my teacher, the question "Nakatira daw tayo sa Pilipinas e di ba Cavite yon?". I was quite introverted and I won't talk to people unless I was approached. I only had 1 friend in kinder but it didn't really matter to me. When we moved to Imus, Cavite, we became so close to a family in the neighborhood that we treated each other as family. In that neighborhood, I made a friend who then became my best friend that would last up until now. We're friends for over 14 years now. She's a really good friend to me as she would always include me in almost every sort of activity she doeslike participating in church, helping me become part of drum & lyre band, and more. We haven't had contact for a year now as she's busy with work and we already moved out.

I started elementary during 2011. I made a lot of temporary friends and I honestly miss them. Moving into elementary was quite a culture shock to me as it was a lot different than in kinder. I would be randomly approached by other students asking "kapatid ka ni-", about my older brother, it made me question if he's popular in school. Around 4th grade, I was introduced by my friend to her co-members in the church's children's choir, and around the same time, she helped me join their Drum & Lyre band as Lyre piqued my interest. Playing Lyre has made me really happy. Joining church activities has made me experience a lot of things that are both positive and negative. It was during elementary that I experienced being made fun of as my actions were "not of a boy's". I remember going home one night and hearing that my father got angry as his so-called "friend" called me gay because I mostly hung out with girls. It wasn't that much of a big deal to me back then as I was too innocent for these things.

Around 2017, I started my junior high school life. During 7th grade, I made a friend with a similar interest to me which was playing the lyre. I had a lot of memorable experiences with him like eating as Mang Inasal, making me eat lunch at their home out of nowhere, and more. During 8th grade, I met people telling me that I was "intelligent" and that I just needed to make effort at school. I made great friends and had great teachers. Honestly, I didn't like 9th grade except for my friends who have similar interests as me, anime.

After the school year ended, the lockdown came after some time. I stopped during the 1st quarter of the first online classes as I couldn't adapt to the new normal. During the lockdown, I immersed myself in online games meeting different kinds of people and even making some friends. I was supposed to drop out for the second time but my class adviser home visited me to give me a chance to graduate.

Mid-2022 was when the face-to-face classes were finally brought back and I didn't know what to expect. The two-year lockdown was quite isolating and I forgot the feeling of socialization. Though I'd rather be alone in a room, I still tried my best to socialize. The first day of class with set B was quite memorable and I enjoyed it. In the second quarter, I finally made a friend who made my senior high school life bearable. I encountered a lot of failures in grade 11 until I finally started trying and even got results that far exceeded my low expectations. As a grade 12 student, I'm working hard to give my best and so trying to find out my future career and goals.

[brightblessed]

random hc/munday ask but!! in what ways do you and roi differ? personality traits? habits? did he inherit anything in particular from you, such as love for food, etc.? only answer what u feel comfortable answering tho!! no pressure hehe

@swerte (thanks ♥)

So... This is something I have thought about for a bit. I don't want to go like uncomfortably deep into it, but when I made Roi I didn't intentionally put any of myself into him. In most aspects, Roi is far more fucked up than I am. I am gonna get kinda personal here. So fair warning and please heed my content warnings on the tags.

BUT I have come to realize I have a lot of stuff in common with him. Honestly, a lot of his negative traits are just more severe versions of my own. Roi is self-destructive and I also am. My depression very much manifests as intense anger. I feel the same powerful bouts of emotion. My desire when I made Roi was to make a character that wasn't a typical hero. Of course, a lot of what Roi is now grew over me playing msq with him. At first, Roi was supposed to be the sort of person that could easily become a villain. Alot of his sharp edges softened from the original concept as I played through the game with him.

Another thing I wanted to explore with Roi was trauma/mental illness. I have been incredibly mentally ill since I was 6 years old. I had a traumatic experience happen around that time. Something that no one even believes happened to this day. After that, the world became very scary to me. It manifested as extreme anxiety and paranoia. I had always been neurodivergent but idk. Anyway, from that point on I had a lot of struggles. I feel like I didn't have a childhood because of it. Still, to this day, I feel stunted. But anyway, I had all of this shit and none of it was making me nicer or anything. So I really wanted to explore that with Roi. How trauma and mental illness can be so negative and horrible. How it can make you nasty and how much it eats at you. Feeling like you are ruined or whatever. Like there is something wrong with you and you are just a cancer on the people around you. Like obviously, Roi's crap is way worse than mine. But I discovered that writing Roi could either make me feel way better since I got to get that shit out, or WAY WORSE because I kinda experienced the pain along with him. When I made Roi in 2019, I was coming out of some really dark places in my life. Being bipolar is like, and I only have bipolar ii but like... it's always so awful. Like I know life is very much ups and downs. But idk like it feels like I have no control a lot of the time. because even if things are good, there is this fear that an episode or relapse is gonna creep up on me. And when I made Roi, I had just gone through some stupid shit. I didn't like the person that I was. I think that really got imprinted on him in a way. I could go way more into all the things I see in myself and Roi but like... In a really crazy way, when I was making Roi I wasn't thinking of it like that. But like... you know. Now that I see it, after writing him for so long, I think he really helped me realize a lot about myself. Things I needed to change. And it's actually been really positive. I know it's silly since he's MY CHARACTER but like... At some point I realized a lot of the things wrong with Roi were also things wrong with me. And I realized that I needed to try to fix it. And obviously, I don't have any magical adventures or nearly the level of trauma Roi has. But there are def echoes of him in me. And now that I know that I can try to realize when I am being toxic to myself or others. So I love watching Roi heal because... Idk I want to heal too I guess.

[humanitiesandscience]

A worldview from the heart's perspective

(Picture published by Tim Marshall on Unsplash.com)

If our worldview doesn't allow tension, we don't think biblically. The use of questions helps us to take ownership of something and to guide others into the same place of being: the presence.

Humans are created for communication. Everyone wants to talk but they don't know if it is safe to do so. This week, Matt Rawlins talked about how we can create a safe place for people to show up, even when they think differently, act differently, and talk differently than we would.

First, he claimed that the is no fixed worldview. The view we have of the world is created by our own fixed reality. Each one of us, instead of coming to the right worldview, comes to a right or wrong relationship that is created by our words. What he meant by that? He meant that we are humans capable of thinking, observing, and understanding but our heart does not only work rationally but carries values. And when we define our values we come to a point where we actually build a worldview and don't just live in a "rational grid". And when our worldview does not align with the worldview of another person, we should not expect them to confirm ours but create an open place for conversations, open questions, and honest interest.

I just mentioned our inner hearts' values. As Matt would say "we find out what reality is when we are confronted with tension". - He points out our delegated authority to be responsible for our hearts. When Eve was eating the forbidden fruit, she was able to say no to the snake and set boundaries. But she didn't and this is where her actual heart's values are revealed. The tension itself wasn't bad but was confronting her with her own values. The consequences of her actions show clearly that there are boundaries that are necessary for our health. They defend us from things that want to violate our lives.

When people get confronted with pain/suffering, they act according to who they really are. But God wants to teach us values - and we should NOT let our heart be the issue. The things going on in this world are heart issues, not system issues. If we don't learn to control our own appetite, nothing outside of ourselves will (usually) help us. What we need is freedom, birthed in inner responsibility, and core values within the kingdom of God.

I honestly loved this week!! Matt was so authentic and owned what he talked about. Before, when I heard the word tension, I automatically thought about something negative. But now, I understand it as a situational experience that reveals and confronts us with our actual inner values. Now, I can see tension as an opportunity for growth rather than something that only causes trouble. But in that lifetime process, we need to continually discern our own understanding of the world and our heart's values. How exactly can I do that? By challenging myself as well as others through questions. And by setting healthy boundaries that protect me in times of tension.

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Shadows And Pills - 1

Summary: Some people come away from the Battle of New York with scars and broken bones. Some come away with nightmares and years of therapy ahead of them. Some don’t come away at all. Alexa comes away with a shadow.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Warnings: RAPE, Torture, Abuse, Self Harm, Negative Images of Psychological Services/Mental Health Professionals, Hallucinations, Stalking, Supernatural Horror, Prescription Drug Use and Eventual Abuse, Mental Illness, PTSD, Flashbacks of Violence, Flashbacks of Tragedy, Starving Oneself, Isolation, Physical and Mental Exhaustion, Denial, Self Neglect, Gaslighting, Mental Spiraling, Mental and Emotional Abuse

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: This is not a happy story in any sense, at any point. I could only write this at my lowest places, emotionally and mentally speaking, and I had a hard time coming back from it. This is dark, and it does not at any point get lighter. I relied heavily on my own experiences with mental struggles and took a few pieces here and there from my own experiences with mental health professionals. MY EXPERIENCES ARE MY OWN AND ARE NOT TYPICAL, NOT EVEN FOR ME. If you need mental help of any kind, please DO NOT HESITATE TO REACH OUT TO GET IT. This story was an exercise in mental exorcism, in a sense.

For all the Loki lovers out there, I do not shine him anything like a good or redeeming light here. He is evil incarnate, more or less. I love Loki, I love good Loki and redeemed Loki and misunderstood Loki and just about every incarnation thereof. I needed a villain, and he fit the story.

Above all, please be kind. This was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever written, and it took me years to work up the courage to post it. If you have any questions, please feel free to message me or send me an ask.

Thank you to @thoughtslikeaminefield and @glassjacket . I would not have made it through this story and would honestly not be here today with the two of you. I will never be able to tell you how much you mean to me.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Word Count: 1 - 3785; 2 - 3513; 3 - 1068

In Case You Missed It: ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

...

Shadows and Pills

1

Some people come away from the Battle of New York with scars and broken bones. Some come away with nightmares and years of therapy ahead of them. Some don’t come away at all.

Alexa comes away with a shadow.

In the weeks following the disaster, the public equally lauds and decries the Avengers, but while their opinions are divided over the heroes, the villain is universally denounced as nothing short of Satan himself, and the city throws an actual celebration the day Thor takes Loki back to Asgard to face the justice of their people.

Alexa, having not turned on her television since the day she got home from the hospital, ignores the boisterous celebrants and goes about her shopping, earbuds firmly in place, frown lines now permanently etched between her eyes and around her pinched lips.

“Routine will help you through some of the worst days,” her therapist tells her during one session. “Something familiar and safe to retreat to when the flashbacks are the worst. Just give it a try,” he adds at her disbelieving grimace.

And so she sets a routine.

Morning Routine: wake up. Ignore alarm, lie in bed an extra thirty minutes or so. Shower. Pretend to eat breakfast. Take meds (this one she never skips or shirks). Find something to wear. Stare at it for another ten minutes. Eventually get dressed. Contemplate keys for another fifteen minutes. Leave the goddamned apartment already.

Her routine has varying results, although she does admit to her therapist that life is marginally more bearable with the routine than without.

“It’s nice to have something to look forward to for the next day.”

Her therapist can’t quite hide his grimace at her flat, deadened tone, but she’s not being sarcastic or rude. She finds that going to bed at night is a trifle easier when she knows what’s going to happen the next day.

“So, who are we up to today?” the doctor asks, switching the subject with awkward abruptness. It’s been six weeks since Hell came to New York, and during their twice-weekly meetings, her therapist suggests going through each of the people she saw die in front of her that day, to get closure...or say goodbye...or something.

Sometimes Alexa wonders whether he just wants to hear the details for his own perverse pleasure.

“Brenda.”

Alexa robotically begins to list the personal details she knows...knew...about her floor manager. Unlike the mail room intern she discussed at their last meeting, the list for Brenda goes on for a while. She’s worked with Brenda since she started at the company, learning most of what she knows about her current job from the woman.

Brenda was kind, sharply intelligent, and mothering to everyone under her supervision, and yet she did it in a way that didn’t make anyone uncomfortable. She balanced work and a family long and well enough to both receive regular promotions within the company and also, very recently, become a new grandmother.

The backs of Alexa’s eyes sting as she remembers the photo Brenda showed her not twenty minutes before part of the building collapsed on top of half the department. Her jaw locks as the scene plays before her eyes again, the explosions and shrieks of metal drowning out the shrieks of the people only five feet away.

She closes her eyes, but there’s no pause button to freeze the scene, no power button to shut the images off as she turns in her memory and runs, making it to the stairwell and slamming the door open, turning back and screaming for Brenda, straining her eyes through the smoke and dust and mountains of falling debris. Brenda is running, reaching for Alexa even though she seems miles away, and then one of the file cabinets is thrown over, propelled faster and harder than should be possible, and...and…

And then Brenda isn’t running anymore. Her outstretched hand, the only part of her that wasn't crushed by office furniture, spasms against the ruined carpet, as if it thinks it’s reached its destination and is grasping at its savior.

Alexa’s hand tingles, and her fingers lock into her palm, nails fitting easily into the little grooves she dug there weeks ago. No blood, she only dug that deep once, but the furrows remain as permanently etched there as the frown lines on her face.

Alexa struggles to take in a labored breath as her therapist watches her with the appropriate amount of professional, clinical sympathy and detachment.

“Do your counting,” he reminds her.

How could she forget? She counts to three once, letting a breath out at the end. She repeats the process twice more, ignoring her therapist’s brief flash of annoyance at her departure from his “system.” But, for once, he doesn’t ask her why she has to deviate from the standard one-to-ten method and just lets her do the goddamned counting in peace.

Small blessings.

“Have you had any flashbacks since our last session?”

She stares at him, letting her gaze rest heavy and disbelieving as she turns his question over. She’s been averaging about five flashbacks a day, triggered by everything from accidentally brushing a stranger on the sidewalk (Jim knocking past her to get down the stairs just as the door on the stairwell behind her explodes inward; more shrieking, then falling, then dark) to lifting a carton of cold milk from the shelf at the grocery (that impossibly cold hand grasping hers, pulling her up from the rubble, bringing her face to face with...something...something in the...shadows, it was so dark there, and…).

“Yeah. I’ve had some flashbacks since our last session.”

“What sort of coping strategies did you use?”

He’s not even meeting her eyes now, just getting notes down on that damned pad. The scratching of his pen grates into her bones, and Alexa grits her teeth as she glares.

One, two, three.

Breathe.

One, two, three.

Breathe.

One, two, three.

Breathe.

She slowly recites the list of strategies he suggested during a previous session, none of which have proven particularly effective at lessening the frequency of the episodes, but most of which she grudgingly admits provide some slight relief afterwards and allow her to refocus her mind on the present rather than dwelling in the memory.

“And the shadows?”

How can he get this wrong every time when he’s taking all those fucking notes?

“Still just the one.”

“Has it manifested in any other way? Asked you to do anything? Do you feel different in any way when you notice it?”

There’s a distasteful eagerness to his words that always turns Alexa’s stomach, and she has to physically bite into her tongue to keep from asking what kind of bonus he gets for each symptom she shows of different mental illnesses.

“It’s just there sometimes. I..” She hesitates, feeling vaguely nauseated from his questions, but she has to be honest, right? Because, ultimately, it’s his job to help her, and she’s never going to get through this by hiding symptoms. He can’t help fix her if he doesn’t know what’s broken, and he did suggest the routine, so, okay, he gets a pass for this one.

“I still mostly only see it before I’m falling asleep. I’ve started seeing it in the late afternoon, as well, not often, but sometimes. Always in shadows that are already there. It doesn’t talk or anything, doesn’t really have any face or form except for vaguely person-shaped, but it...it watches me. And it’s...denser than it was last week. More...it’s thicker than it was, like when you see wispy clouds kind of...gather and turn into storm clouds?”

He nods, his pen whizzing over the legal pad he records their session notes on. “So, you feel threatened by the shadow? Like it’s storm clouds gathering to...what? It feels menacing?”

But, like most of the questions Alexa fences in this office, this one isn’t easily answered.

“It feels like it’s watching me, waiting for something. I don’t know what. I don’t...I don’t know if it’s menacing, exactly. Like, it feels potentially dangerous, but I can’t tell if it’s for me. I don’t know. It’s just...darker and more there this week, but it doesn’t do anything, and I don’t feel different, and it doesn’t speak to me. I. Don’t. Hear. Voices.”

She clips off each word at the end of her rant separately and precisely, repeating her counting in her head, and she forces her breathing to even out. The doctor is just doing his job, he’s just trying to help, he’s supposed to ask these questions, it’s how he helps-

“Hmm. I’ll have to consider that between now and our next meeting. In the meantime, go ahead and move up to the next dosage step with your meds, keep it on the escalating schedule we set.”

You set, she thinks mutinously for a moment before internally shaking her head. She nods, biting her tongue once more. She’s going to have a permanent indentation there as well, at this rate.

“Any side effects? Itching, swelling, difficulty breathing? Any unreasonable lethargy or detachment?”

“I mean...I don’t really have anything to attach to at this point, so…”

He frowns at her again, and she wonders if he’s going to crank up her dosage two notches instead of one.

“Are you having what you feel are typical emotional responses to everyday stimuli? Have you laughed or smiled at anything yet? How long has it been since you emotionally felt anything besides the frustration and panic?”

And, somehow, this question is difficult, too. She struggles through, trying to find a balance between honesty and not making herself look like a complete failure who can't function in life. She doesn’t help her case when she admits she hasn’t followed many of his suggestions beyond establishing a routine.

“Not even exercising?” he asks, his disappointment palpable.

When she silently shakes her head, her lips pinched tight against his disapproval, he shakes his head with a sigh that sings of ultimate betrayal. Instead of berating her as usual, the doctor frowns and looks down at his notes, considering them silently. He clicks his tongue against his teeth for a moment before switching over to end-session mode, robotically delivering his closing remarks, his typical reminders to keep her meds on a strict schedule at the exact time every day, to avoid all alcohol and unprescribed drugs, to keep her diet as clean and unprocessed as possible, and to get plenty of exercise. Even this last bit is delivered with a sharply clinical detachment, as if she has driven him to the brink of her own psychoses by stubbornly refusing to accept his help.

There is a short, silent moment between them where they refuse to look at each other, the doctor perusing his notes once more while Alexa examines the wrinkles creased into her jeans from lack of folding. The doctor flips pages over in his legal pad and slaps the cover shut sharply, breaking the standoff with one last, dismissive comment.

“Routine, Alexa. Stick to the routine. If it’s what brings you comfort, if that's the one thing you’re taking away from these sessions that actually helps, then stick with it. I’ll see you Thursday afternoon.”

….

Her afternoons vary, according to her therapy schedule. Her sessions take roughly an hour and a half, so that’s one block of time she doesn’t have to try and fill. On the days she isn’t having her skull cracked open, she can sometimes force herself to work on the files her company sends her way. Grunt work, brainless stuff that any first-year intern could do, but it keeps her on the payroll and covered by health insurance until the doctor clears her to return to the office.

Not that there’s an office to return to yet.

Grocery shopping for food she’ll pretend to eat later, making excuses to stay out of the apartment a little longer each day, watching the shadows of the buildings grow darker and longer until the sunlight disappears from the streets.

And the other shadow, the darkest of all, thick and solid against the brick and stone, pacing her, keeping track as she wanders through the broken city blocks. Sometimes she walks a little faster, pretends to not notice the black spot. Sometimes she pretends it’s keeping her company. With the most conversation she’s had in weeks taking place in her therapy sessions, she occasionally finds the imaginary company of her shadow stalker to be more pleasant than menacing.

Occasionally.

Eventually, though, she and her chimerical companion head back to the silent, encroaching walls of her apartment to begin the night routine.

…

Night Routine: laundry. Pretend to eat dinner. Shower. Finish laundry. Clean already clean kitchen. Another shower (on the bad days, the ash and debris won’t wash off). Rearrange already arranged closet. Braid hair. Take meds, do not skip, no matter how much they screw up her sleep, because they help. They do. Settle into bed. Stare at the wall. Adjust pillows. Re-settle. Stare at the shadow. Start to drift off, slide into a flashback, scream back to full consciousness. Watch the shadow. Doze. Awaken from a fucked up nightmare she can only partially remember. Repeat ad nauseum.

Really, if Alexa could just skip the nights and go straight into morning, that’d be great. Mornings are tedious but tolerable. Afternoons are blurry and tense, especially therapy days, but nights…

Nights just won't shut down.

The drugs are partially responsible, the doctor has told her multiple times. The medicine can either make sleeping more difficult, or it can act like a sedative, dragging and holding her down. Honestly, she’s getting kind of mixed results. It’s difficult to stay awake, easy to slip under, but then she can’t stay asleep for very long, jerking back to consciousness in something close to full panic, unable to figure out if it’s the drugs or the dreams that’s pushing her to the edge.

Because the fucked up dreams...well, that’s all on her and her broken brain. She stopped bringing up the dreams in therapy after the first couple of weeks of sessions. The doctor seemed hell bent on steering Alexa towards the possibility that she was experiencing waking hallucinations, but there’s no way she could possibly be awake for all this shit. Maybe some of the flashbacks, but not…

Not…

Her brain isn’t that broken.

No. No, she can tell from the way she jerks to consciousness afterwards, she knows she’s asleep. Yeah, she’s unstable and has flashbacks, but she’s not delusional. They’re dreams.

Every night.

About…

Something.

Okay, sometimes she can remember. Sometimes the meds dull her down so much she forgets what day it is, but sometimes she can hold on to a detail or two. Cold, slender fingers, impossibly strong. A flash of bright blue that sends nausea racing through her entire body (who knew your toes could feel nauseated?) or a glimpse of bottle green that, conversely, thrills her to her soul. A smooth, velvet voice that penetrates every layer of her being, down to the deepest recesses. Darkness descending...a sense of dreadful awe…

And sometimes she can remember every unhinged detail with a terrifying clarity that she will never even consider mentioning to the therapist. Not if she likes her jacket sleeves to fit properly.

There’s honesty, and then there’s idiocy.

The shadow is larger tonight. Taller, a little broader, definitely denser. She would say looming, even, but it’s not quite that large.

Not quite.

She stares at it openly, no longer trying to avoid acknowledging its presence. What's the point? The doctor knows about it, and it’s not like she’s talking to it. She’s not that far gone yet. And she hasn't lied to the doctor, either. The shadow does watch her, like it’s waiting, gathering. Convalescing. But it hasn't ever talked to her.

She does not hear voices.

She yawns and rolls her shoulders, left then right, sliding a little lower in bed, searching for a cooler place between the sheets. Movement catches her eye, and she looks up as the shadow shifts, leaning left then right, and seems to…

Grow?

No, it’s never moved before. She’s pretty sure she’s never seen it move, but now it pulses and raises up, stretching-

No. No. Sourceless shadows don’t move. They don’t grow, they don’t shift, they don’t-

The shadow stretches upwards abruptly, definitely looming now, and Alexa hits the wall behind the bed, scrambling backwards in a blind panic as she realizes the shadow isn’t growing.

It’s coming closer.

Her breathing speeds up, but her limbs are heavy and dull with narcotic stupor. The foot of her bed darkens as the shadow creeps even closer, and she opens her mouth to protest, to scream, to say something, but her tongue is numb and stupid with the acrid, coppery tang of fear and pharmaceuticals, and she hates, hates this kind of dream where she can’t speak, can't move and she can barely breathe, and...and…

The shadow reaches out, stretches over her foot and slides up her calf in a clammy, viscous caress that tightens on her knee and pulls her several inches down the bed as her throat closes.

Do not shrink from Me. It is not your fear I crave, but your adoration. Come to Me, allow yourself to move past the fear and embrace what I wish to grant you.

Horror, deep and instinctual, floods her veins. Alexa feels the voice more than hears it, and it awakens an ancient fear that finally, though futilely, awakens her drugged limbs. She claws at her sheets uselessly as the shadow moves over her, a freezing oil slick that oozes against her skin as if her blankets and clothes weren’t even there, sending shivers to the very marrow of her bones as her gorge rises, and she chokes on the bile that singes the back of her throat. She can’t fight, can’t move against this intangible force, but neither will her terror let her sink past the fear to blissful unawareness.

Give over. Let go of your stubborn fear that tethers you to this useless reality. Allow Me entrance, and I will grant you the relief you seek. Release your grip on the world that cares nothing for you, and I shall bestow upon you the peace you so desperately crave.

Her skin raises in gooseflesh everywhere the shadow crosses, and her stomach turns as it squeezes its way up her torso, her chest, her throat, slipping over her lips in a sick parody of a lover’s caress. She opens her mouth - to scream, to breathe, to do something - and the shadow plunges inwards, invading her mouth, her throat, coating her inside and out with a thick, glutinous sensation that leaves her mouth hanging obscenely open, tongue thrashing, while her mind screams useless denials.

Submit to Me what you see I can easily take, give Me My due. Give over, drown in Me, and I will save you from this miserable existence.

And she is drowning, the air pressed from her lungs as a dark heaviness settles solidly over her. Her arms are forced over her head, and she is strung out on her twisted sheets, writhing under the weight of the shadow as it presses over every surface, against every entrance. No matter how she strains, her legs are gradually forced apart. The darkness’s lack of speed is affected, some barely functioning bit of her brain whispers to her; it could take her as swiftly as it cares to and is only moving slowly because it wants her to suffer, wants to taste her anguish. She has no chance against the shadow, she can’t even touch it, really she could just save herself the anxiety and fear and just-

NO.

She twists as hard as she can, but the shadow simply moves with her, flows over her, waits until she takes another breath, and then surges between her thighs, driving her torso off the bed with the force of its thrust. Every cell in her body locks, not in pain, but in complete revulsion. And then again, and again, cruel in the thoroughness of its violation, covering and saturating every crevice of her being, coating and tainting everything it touches.

Wrong, can't...stop, stop, stop, wrong, can’t...God, please…

You cannot rely on yourself, on your own mind for proper guidance. Let Me protect you. Let Me save you from yourself.

How long...minutes...hours...years...just stop, please…please-

The alarm clock shrieks right in her goddamned ear, and she can breathe and move and scream and goddammit, she fucking hates those dreams that send her careening onto the floor, scrambling for cover when she can’t even remember what she's running from.

Her morning routine is already in shambles. There’s no ignoring the alarm clock today. A morning shower maybe, to wash off the sticky aftermath of night sweats, definitely, but no lying about, staring at the walls in a sleep-daze. Definitely washing the sheets tonight, too.

She surveys what she can see of her bed from her crumpled position on the floor in front of the closet and sighs. Must’ve been a hell of a nightmare to tear up the covers that badly. She thinks for a moment of trying a little harder to remember, to recall some piece of the dream, but then her stomach flips over, and she summarily rejects that idea in favor of caffeination and medication.

She allows herself another few minutes on the floor, waiting until her respiratory and heart rates return to a less alarming pace before climbing to her quivering knees. The shadow darkens the far corner of the room, as innocuous as always. Though she doesn’t know why, she can’t help an involuntary flinch when she first sees it. It’s not normally present in the morning, at least, she doesn’t think so...well, she can't remember the shadow being so dark in the mornings, at least. But...

She clears her throat against the thickness that seems to coat it suddenly, and readjusts her plan to include a glass of water before she starts in on the coffee. She realizes after another long moment of staring that her hands are trembling along with her legs. Her jaw clenches, and she knows she’s being ridiculous. It’s a damned shadow. It just sits there. It’s a minor manifestation of a mild psychosis secondary to major psychological trauma. It’s just a damned dark spot; it doesn’t change, doesn't want her to do anything, and it definitely doesn’t fucking talk to her.

She. Does. Not. Hear. Voices.

…

Up Now: 2

[de-cryptid]

Behind the curtain.

I’ll cut to the chase and simply state outright who I believe, and am almost certain, is behind the social media presence of Simon Alkenmayer.

Kristina Meister.

Kristina deleted her blog yesterday as of posting so I can’t link directly to it for the posts I am going to discuss and showcase here. I will be providing links that preserve their existence, however, so you don’t have to take me at my word alone.

For context: In Simon's world (which is how I will refer to the unreality that is his existence and supposed life), Kristina was his editor for The Creature's Cookbook and also the foot-in-the-door that is the publishing industry. She pitched the autobiography on his behalf, bringing it to Tapas media.

They maintained a friendship, both outside of the internet and here on tumblr. However, one day a fire was set in Kristina's driveway, leading her to what can reasonably be described as hysteria.

Here is an archived link to her reaction.

TL;dr is that she believes @simonalkenmayerisdead to be the only person in the world who could have possibly made a connection between her and Simon (despite the fact they actively engaged with each other on multiple social medias, that and there are far more people on tumblr that know of Simon than his critics) and threatened a multitude of legal action.

Here, The Fool explains the issue with the accusations levied against him and his followers.

Reading the exchanges between Simon, The Fool, and Kristina is what made it clear to me that Simon is Kristina. A lot of those posts are long gone due to Kristina's blog deletion, and are otherwise far too tedious to hunt down on Simon's blog, but they are quite similar to that which is linked above.

You can probably tell there's a level of irrationality (an understatement honestly) in Kristina's posts regarding the fire and her general demeanour.

As she and Simon have each other's personal contact information, which she herself showed a screenshot of, I think it's strange for Simon to respond publicly in the way he did. She's clearly not in a good mental state to be online, discussing a traumatic event, throwing accusations, cussing at and threatening her dissenters.

He's a long-lived observer of humans, in his world, and instead of recognizing this to be the behaviour of someone who isn't in the right frame of mind to be speaking about their circumstances to a substantial audience of presumably a few ill-intentioned people, he endorses everything she says and encourages her to continue on her rants.

Is it not obvious that this isn't accomplishing anything but potentially harming her more? She's shown the suspect that their tactic succeeded. She revealed her vulnerabilities in regards to her child and marriage. Simon, as a friend and the supposed cause for all this, should know better than to further feed into the anonymous attacks on his associate and instead handle it on a personal level.

But that isn't what happened.

The only way for someone to respond in the manner Simon did is for them to be as equally emotionally involved and irrational as Kristina herself is, which is clear from the notes where Simon's loyal audience reacts in a similarly distressed and irrational voice.

That's human behaviour, not that of a people-eating centuries-old non-mammalian monster who has watched famine ravage civilizations, killed countless individuals, and adapted despite it all.

But moving on, as I'm sure that in and of itself isn't enough for some people.

Let's turn our attention to The Creatures Cookbook itself. It's framed as a diary, meaning it was written in real-time and built upon over years, not as an autobiography. This is suspect for reasons I'll discuss further on.

I'd like to begin with the book's publishing history. It was first in print thanks to Fuse Literary, as can be seen in this post from their website, then moved onto the Tapas app (where it remains to this day).

Simon himself says that his book is "out of print", which is why it's not available as a physical copy outside of second-hand nowadays. This is not exactly true; fuse literary dropped the book. He isn't being represented by them anymore. Tapas, which is more of a pulp app where anyone can publish most anything, is not just the new medium he selected dutifully to act out the experiment more effectively; it was a last resort for a book people simply weren't interested in.

The Fool explains this quite well here.

I'd also like to reiterate something touched upon in that linked post; Simon lied about meeting his publisher, either in 2014 in that incredibly descriptive post about his agent and their experience with Tapas, or to that anonymous asker. Why is this? If the original post was incorrect, or no longer what Simon wanted readers to believe, wouldn't it make more sense to delete it? That or he, likely, forgot what was originally said about his publisher and simply made up a response for the asker. His memory spans centuries, and clearly that experience was a vivid one, given his description, but he couldn't keep consistent on his public social media. I find this suspect for many reasons.

Going back to Fuse Literary, we have articles that directly state Kristina is "writing as" Simon, which he has stated in the past was out of necessity to preserve his identity (which is somewhat contradictory, seeing as he claims that the government is aware of his species and him specifically, and also his aim is to convince people he does in fact exist).

Needless to say, a lot of little things just don't add up. Instead, they point to Kristina using Simon's character and presence as an outlet of sorts. He is an identity she assumes.

Here is another clue I stumbled upon, regarding Kristina's other writing endeavours.

Let's talk Cinderella Boy.

So Kristina is both a freelance editor (as Simon states she was for him) and a writer herself, with several published books. Easily her highest reviewed and most popular is called Cinderella Boy, a story about LGBTQ struggles from the perspective of a high school boy. I went through the reviews a while back and a lot were positive! But I noticed that many of those positive reviews were people who knew Kristina through Simon and already liked his character, his voice, his style.

And Cinderella Boy is very much the same.

I linked the Goodreads page above and recommend you go through reviews yourself to better understand what I mean, but below I will show one of the negative reviews that is... Very telling. (Click and swipe through, it's a long one)

And this wasn't the only person saying these sorts of things, either. Again, I recommend seeing for yourself. Here's another excerpt from a different review:

I want to focus in on the "70 year old philosophers" bit. The other review above said something similar about the overly deep and philosophical dialogue.

Sound familiar?

It appears Kristina's writing style happens to be that old-timey philosophically-bent verbose kind, highly reminiscent of Simon himself.

I found this rather funny. You'd think writing a modern YA would have a skilled writer attempting to make the character interactions more relatable and... Well, realistic.

It appears Kristina only has the one setting, however. And that happens to sound exactly the way Simon talks.

I will be going in-depth with the factual errors in Simon's historical assertions in the future, so I'll hold off on those for now, but a previous post of mine shows a clear miscalculation on the part of Simon's creator googling something and applying it to Simon's world, without realizing it was factually incorrect. You can see that here.

To conclude this very long post, I want to make it clear that I do not hate Kristina nor Simon, I am not posting this to harass either of them. I am only interested in making it clear that Simon is not an all-knowing cryptid and is not a reliable voice. Simon is a human creation and his readers should be aware of that. Seek real, professional help if you are looking for some advice. Do not think that an elaborate roleplay is an appropriate substitute.

[vtori73]

Okay so... I'm making another post again about this (CW for mentions of Biphobia and transphobia):

Only it's not ABOUT this but it's about what I as a queer ACTUALLY care about in terms of rep and such. Real quick I will say that as much I do agree with SOME of these being bad fancanons for being negative/stereotypical whatever I ALSO think claiming some of these as outright harmful is a bit much & grasping at straws a bit.

Anyway moving on, right now I'm seeing specific Lesbians are harassing the writer of the new Harley Quinn Comic eat, bang, kill tour because they wrote her as Bisexual... not a decision the writer made herself but something that was WRITTEN into the original show that the comic is following.

Like... I'm sorry but first things first based on facts if you know anything about Poison ivy before recent depictions she has been heavily represented/written/depicted as straight, I don't believe if she's ever 100% stated as such but... come on, no straight people were back then, media still doesn't feel the need to state characters as hetero because our society very much does the whole "assumed straight unless stated otherwise." And Poison ivy, in certain depictions ive seen at least, comes off VERY much as for the male gaze and I know lesbians are used this way often BUT this isn't as often in certain media like comics (or wasn't common) where they usually would prefer them be open to men so the demographic they care about can fantasize about being with the character.

Second, this IS definitely being fueled by racism since the writer is Black woman (not mention also queer & disabled) and so far the people responding have been white or at least one of the main ones is.

Third, this is just another one those things that to me REALLY shows how Biphobic certain parts of the Lesbian community can get.

Like I'm sorry, what I'm about to type of probably going make some upset and scream "lesbophobia" but I HAVE to share because I can't be the only one who feels this way... I feel wary around Lesbians online sometimes, not because of any stereotypes but because I've SEEN how openly, some Ive followed even in the past, are to complain about us (Bi+) people and openly explain how they DONT want to share spaces with Bi woman. Look I get wanting to hangout with people just like you, BUT its weird how quickly some Lesbians are to want to discard us and not relate to us because we possibly may like, talk about, be in relationships with men and it's even MORE weird that that's a determent to y'all even though these same types of lesbians make their whole identity/community dependant on men (I'm sorry but even if it's specifically about hating men ur still at the end of the day... making it seem like ur sexuality/community hinges on men) and not you know... loving woman.

I've seen some Lesbians complain about how they need Lesbian ('only' heavily implied) bars and how its annoying that bi woman go to them. And countless of stories of Bi woman being shunned, turned down for being Bi, no I'm not saying that is so awful Lesbians don't want to "sleep" with us (why the parentheses? eh just that I'm not going to assume ALL anyone wants to do after meeting in a bar is to fuck it's probably a good chunk of the time but not 100%) I'm saying it's pretty Biphobic, bigoted, etc to turn someone down JUST for being Bi, you obviously only have a problem with Bi people being Bi.

And also yes we do get hurt because duh its Biphobia but we also are ultimately glad to know because we wouldn't want to sleep with Biphobic people anyway we just want y'all to acknowledge it for what it is, a bigoted prejudice, no not a boundary but a Biphobic preference. I know a lot won't get that and scream "it's a boundary, it's a boundary!" and I don't know if they do this to Bi woman who say it but if this was about Trans woman they would also add "you just want to rape, coerce, harass Lesbians into sleeping with you" & usually paired with plenty of misgendering. I feel like I have seen it but only more so in terms of gold star lesbian rhetoric instead of terf rhetoric.

Either way, it just kind of sad, frustrating and annoying that Bi+, trans, etc can't DARE to bring this stuff up without being called Lesbophobic (just using this term would get me harassed & called a bigot on Twitter because it "contains a slur") because we SHOULD be allowed to bring up stuff that hurts us but we can't because LGBTQIA people seem to have this unspoken hierarchy of who gets cared about, believed, listened to first and it's definitely seems based on the order of the letters in the alphabet soup.

.

.

.

But anyway yeah, I have a hard time taking the post I shared an image of above seriously when stuff like I wrote above is going on. Yes I do think being critical of fandom in terms of bigotry is important, ESPECIALLY racism because that honestly is one of the BIGGEST problems since fandom is dominated mostly by white people (specifically women & queer people) however... I don't think the above is a decent example of that, it condenses the issues and leaves out so much needed nuance and such (yes this is cropped so it doesn't include some of the other additions to it but tbf from what I remember it didn't really add nuance, just clarifyed what the first post was doing).

For example, a Bi person headcanoning a character Bi a majority of the time should not be considered Biphobic, even if the character is a negative stereotype PLENTY of people do this as a way to reclaim the character from the bigotry that was written with it. Or the above, if someone hc's a character who is a badass as Bi there shouldn't be an issue. Now if a Bi person hc's others like the above there MIGHT be an issue then. Also, not to mention that identities intersect, if a pan ace person want to hc certain characters a certain way that could be stereotypical should we label them xphobic regardless of their identify?

I just think the original post it too vague and paints all fandom hc the same regardless of who is making them and like I said before, while this can be a problem I have more of an issue with this new trend of shutting down others hc because others claim the character even though the characters specific id is never said & thus should be open to anyone (example: Lesbians claiming its bigoted or get upset at others for hc a character as Bi that they hc as Lesbian even though the character was originally written straight or is very heavily straight coded and/or had relationships with men). Also fandoms erasing characters identities that are outright stated or implied is ALSO a huge thing I find to be more of a problem then the above post (examples: Luz Noceda from Owl house is stated by the creator as being Bi but people are calling her/them (her & her girlfriend) lesbians; another one that I feel is SORT of a problem but I also can't 100% condemn people who do this because the show doesn't help with continuing to be vague about it is Bob Belcher & him being hinted at being Bi but is erased by straight and gay(LG) fans as being straight).

Also I don't apologize for all of my examples being about Bi people, biphobia, etc because I am Bi so that is what I know and experience first and foremost!